[h1][u]Ciara Ventura[/u][/h1]
[i][color=gray]Wingram, Iris Record[/color][/i]
[@Nanaya], [@Psyker Landshark]

[hr][hr][center][youtube]https://youtu.be/QppQy9YWMbE?si=8ByAQZr8yAgrXPc4[/youtube][/center][hr][hr]

[quote=The Head Advisor][i]“Upon Iraleth Kyrios' victory, Ciara Ventura will detail the full truth of any connections she may have to Umbralism…”[/i][/quote]

Ciara was one of the first to walk past the guards, wearing a [url=https://i.imgur.com/uT6zxin.jpeg]black, loose-cut outfit[/url], and carrying a wide bag and a sword. It felt official. The ominous Iris Record, her within it, escorted by none other than the principal.

This was finally happening.

Ciara gave a cool stare, before she took a seat in her waiting room, setting the bag beside her, unbuttoning the flap. Her preparations were finally ready to be revealed. Three glass balls, filled with smoke and spice, were clipped onto the front of her belt. Three twigs were tucked into the back of her belt. Her dagger was sheathed on her thigh. Otis' blade was set beside her.

And lastly, she pulled a small satchel out of the bag. Within the satchel, she pulled out a fistful of dry grass. With a hungry gaze, she stared at the grass, before she opened her mouth, and breathed in. In time with the breath, the grass fizzled and crumbled into ash, slipping through her fingers as she devoured its essence. A finger touched her lips, closed eyes, and a small, satisfied sigh. Before, those eyes opened, revealing haunting red surrounded by black sclera. 

Today, she would drown the light in darkness. Everything was on the line, and she was prepared, ready, to forgo the notion that they were ever friends in the first place.

It wasn't personal, it was just survival. And she was damn good at surviving, at grasping at threads to propel herself forward. 

Often, she had to run from conflict. But when she no longer had that option, she could handle her own. Yes, running from the orphanages as a young child. But now? In her teens, she was the fighter. She was the contender. 

She was the lion to be reckoned with.

They wanted a show, and she wanted to survive. So a show there would be.

They wanted to know of her connection to Umbralism, and she wanted to cut everything that dared associate her with the thought. 

Yes, she knew, if she lost, she would be dissected like an animal. Or worse. Valen said her fate could be truly the worst. So it was a trial of the secrets. And though she, truly, didn't believe she was associated with Umbralism, her traits, her magic, what was [i]within[/i] her, all spoke otherwise.

Today, she would be keeping her secrets.

Today, she would win.

To the poll, she, of course, chose the woods.